Eventualities
by aBeautifulWorld
Summary: A collection of snippets about first looks, second encounters and lasting impressions. The significance of coincidences, the endless possibilities and infinite optimism leads one to explore the many faces of promise.
1. Train Station

**AN:** Let's try something different from the usual moster-length chapters C: Each of these ficlets will only be 500-600 words long. They will all be set after the "Memories' Crannies" ending and based on the question, "How would Ib and Garry meet again after all those years, if they ever do?" The lovely words are all found from this amazing tumblr blog I will post on my profile. Other answers you may seek may also be there. And so, happy reading!

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**Mamihlapinatapei**

_(n.) the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start (Yagan, Tierra del Fuego)_

He was irrevocably separate from the rest, no matter where he stood.

Garry adjusted the strap of his cello case and lightly sighed, cursing the sudden change of schedule in his string quartet's practice times. The morning train was uncomfortable, with the guilt of taking up extra space with his instrument, and yet he had little other choice to travel. He didn't mind the curious stares, he was used to it, but he disliked the hush whispers that accompanied it.

He stuffed his hand into his tattered coat pocket and picked at a hole inside with his forefinger. His right toes scuffed the edge of the yellow line, before he briefly contemplated sliding his whole foot over. The appendage moved on its own. He pulled it back quickly. No one had seemed to notice his odd behaviour, being too preoccupied with their own worlds. He ran a hand through his long hair and sighed.

A rambunctious laughter rolled from the other side of the train platform.

He found the source easily enough. She was tall and tanned, wearing a private school uniform which distinguished her from the rest of the high-school students, and her long hair was tied into a high ponytail that bounced whenever she animatedly talked to her friend. The friend contrasted her, being short and pale, with chestnut hair cropped to her chin. The teenager laughed again at another quiet remark and slung her arm around the other girl, jostling both their faces into his line of sight.

He stared.

The fair young lady stared back.

She had _beautiful_ eyes, _bloody_ _red_ eyes.

Ponytail girl blinked at him and blushed, excitedly nudging to the other.

A pain gripped behind his eyes and Garry shakily massaged his temples, suppressing the sudden inexplicable urge to vomit. A vision of a nine year old child shifted into his vision when he had studied the red-eyed girl. Roses, blue and red flashed before his eyelids, images of a room full of dolls, eyeballs and headless mannequins tugging at his subconscious. He glanced back, and was startled to find an equally intense gaze settling upon him.

Her hand softly grazed the red ribbon around her collar, tugging at it gently. Her eyes closed, and then opened, the garnet shade faintly shinier than before. Ponytail girl pulled at her sleeve, now quiet and concerned at their strange communication. The teenager tilted her head at him, asking the question that plagued his own mind, the hint of a sudden sadness layering her previous impassive demeanour.

_Do I know you?_

He does. He knows her name, but he doesn't remember. Why was there a block, as if his memories were _lost_? He stared at her blankly, mute and deaf to his surroundings. She refused to look away, despite the flush that betrayed her shyness, or perhaps embarrassment. Ponytail girl shook her, and she finally surrendered. He recalled how to breathe. She glanced back.

The trains had arrived, separating them once more. The wave of passengers flowed in and out as he stood, silent and stunned.

Garry adjusted the strap of his cello case and lightly sighed, taking a step forward.

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**AN: **I plan to make each of these moments unique, and not just the typical "HOLY CRAP SURPRISE IT'S YOUR LOLI WAIFU" or "I MUST SAVE GARRY FROM THE EVIL THAT IS THE GUERTENA" trope that we see a lot. I like them too, don't misunderstand, but variety is golden. Ib has a lot of potential that can be explored, that isn't limited to the confines of the gallery, and I want to see more. If you feel like expanding any of these, or want to request a moment, feel free to PM me. Please review the chapter if you liked it, didn't like it, or have any other thoughts. Take care x


	2. School Classroom

**Honne; Tatemae**

_(n.) the contrast between a person's true feelings and desires, often kept hidden to oneself (honne) and the behaviour and opinions displayed in public to satisfy society's demands (tatemae) (Japanese)_

Ib had always been quiet; she had always been a tad shy.

Despite that, she was the exemplar student for her schoolmates. She was the one who always finished her homework or work first; excelled in everything she did and claimed the number one spot in all their exams. She was an honour student; she wouldn't act on impulse, disgrace herself, nor put her family's name in jeopardy.

Despite that, she wanted to hug him. She wanted to pull him close and breathe him in, feeling the warmth of a nearly forgotten dream materialising in front of her. Ib wanted to smile and laugh, cry and scream exactly how much she's missed him, how much she's searched for him the past seven years to no avail.

"Nice to meet you all; I'll be your new home economics teacher starting today."

The students whispered amongst themselves, an array of hushed arguments about his lavender linguistics, his lavender hair, or the way that lavender sweater fitted him _beautifully_. They would accept him easily enough eventually. Her back was rigid; her entire posture frozen in time as she listened to his introduction in the classroom. Her chest twisted with excruciating pain as he glanced by her direction, but didn't pause at all.

And in the course of a month, she deduced that he doesn't remember her at all.

Ib sandwiched her final, finished macaron together and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Her bench partner whistled low in awe at the neat rows and attracted the attention of the entire class. They cooed and crowded around her, giving out praises and claims of envy. Garry stepped into the circle to inspect her work and Ib arrogantly assumed he would smile, that calm and praising _Garry smile_ that he reserved for exceptional students in his class, as he always did the past few lessons.

He didn't. He stood very still, gaze transfixed. Ib turned her head and scuffled her feet, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

"Sensei, do you like them?"

He turned to her slowly. Something in his demeanour changed, his eyes held a spark of...

She breathed in.

_Recognition_

Garry lifted a faintly trembling hand towards her cheek, the tips brushing softly against the long ends of her fringe. He blinked. The hand moved down quickly, away from her face. He awkwardly patted her shoulder once and took a step back. The murmurings of the class finally clicked in her own mind. He admired the colourful French treats nonchalantly, nodding to himself.

"G-Good job, Tachibana, fantastic as always."

"Thank you, sir."

He clapped his hands twice, ushering the other students back to their own work benches. For the rest of the class, and then for the rest of the week, Garry wouldn't even look at her in the eye. Ib greeted him whenever she could, tried to attract his attention being dangerously clumsy, and yet he refused to give in.

"Good morning, Tachibana."

"Be more careful, Tachibana."

"Tachibana, see me after class." She stopped in her tracks and looked back at the handsome teacher by the window.

She stepped away from the door and let the others pass. He briefly flipped through the pages of the students' reports while waiting for the room to clear. Her right hand fiddled with one of the buttons on her sweater, while she discreetly wiped her other damp palm against her skirt. She looked up at his face and bit in a choking sob at his smile. It was the warm, gentle, genuine, _Garry smile_ that she often dreamt of, comforting as a child, rewarding for her now.

"Ib." He rubbed his glossy eyes with the back of his hand, turning away once his shoulders started trembling.

She walked to him slowly, experimentally wrapping an arm around his waist. She grinned in relief when his arms tightly wrapped around her, comforting and tender. Yes, he finally _remembered_ her.

"Garry."

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**AN: **650 words. I can't seem to stick to limits, hm. So how is everyone? I'm dying from exam prep, dying from some personal issues and holy crap there is a new sexy, leng zai, quailo sensei who doesn't even teach me in my school. Have fun translating that strange little sentence. I'm having fun... somewhat. Hope you liked this chapter, it ended on a sweeter note compared to the last one. Share your thoughts and take care! x


	3. Street Pavement

**Hanaemi**

_(n.) lit. "Flowering smile"; A smile that is as beautiful as blooming flowers (Japanese)_

"Hey!"

He groaned and scrunched his eyes shut, rolling to his side.

"Are you okay?"

Garry turned away from the insistent voice calling for him, a sudden acute pain in his wrist and side blooming. It flared in pulses, and he was in too much pain to properly communicate. He had never gone flying before, yet this situation felt all too similar. Faced down on the floor, in pain and not alone. He whimpered and shook his head, hoping the gentle presence beside him would do something, anything.

"Let me call an ambulance."

Garry gritted his teeth and nodded, before losing consciousness.

"Hi."

He opened his eyes to harsh white lights, the pain of sudden brightness shooting straight into his eyes. Garry groaned with exhaustion. He blinked several times to adjust the intensity and finally turned to his side.

He couldn't breathe.

"How are you?" The young lady sitting at his bed side gave him a small smile. Was she... _an angel_? He had never been seen a more beautiful sight. The older male behind her stood even straighter and looked him straight in the eye. He looked slightly younger than he was, but held an air of confidence that would confuse that fact. Garry nodded at them both mutely, running a hand through his light violet locks.

"U-um," He attempted to sit up, suddenly aware of his bandaged arm and the plaster on his jaw. "Where am I? What happened?"

"W-Well." She started. She shyly looked away and he noticed her red, rose-coloured eyes.

"You ran into us." Her servant, he assumed, continued bluntly.

Garry felt his right eyebrow ticked and he sat up, attempting to garner some sort of defence for himself. "I did no such thing, I am careful when I cycle. If I remember correctly, your car... limousine... vehicle came out of nowhere. I went flying-"

"-Well maybe you should be more aware of your environment-"

"-And you should look out for cyclists just as much as cars-"

"-Your pathetic argument is complete trite-"

"-Are you even allowed to make a left turn at that junction?"

"I'm Ib Tachibana!" The two men stopped to look at the flustered girl, "I'm very sorry for Sebastian causing you injury. Please forgive him, it wasn't intentional! My family will pay for the hospital fees and any other inconveniences for you." She bowed low and Garry turned into fifty different shades of red.

"Y-Y-You don't have to!"

"I want to!"

"H-huh? How do you know that accident wasn't partly my fault?" He heard a grunt of agreement and sent a scathing look back to the driver. He sent daggers back, as if it was Garry's fault his young mistress was bowing down to him. "I... I mean-"

"Despite how young I look, I'm studying at Law School." She stood up straight once more and swept her hair back in place. "And according to our governing road laws, Sebastian is clearly at fault. I mean," She looked tenderly at his arm, "You were even injured because of me."

The caring tone startled Sebastian and he shifted his stance again, "Do you know him, miss?"

Garry held out an uninjured hand for Ib and smiled, "She does now. I'm Garry, nice to meet you."

Her eyes widened in surprise, suspiciously glassy, and returned the gesture.

"Ib." She shook his hand firmly and chuckled, that pretty smile of hers blossoming like a flower once more.

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**AN: **It was more dramatic in my head, but with the time constraints, this still turned out nicely. I didn't plan on a snarky chauffeur, heheheh. Why did I post two chapters in two days in a row, you ask? Cos. My mocks are tomorrow. Dammit. Next chapter will probably be depressing. Hope you enjoyed this snippet. Share your thoughts and take care x


	4. Summer Festival

**Kefi**

_(n.) the spirit of joy, enthusiasm, high spirits and frenzy, in which good times and passion for life are expressed with an abundance of excitement, happiness and fun (Greek)_

The little girl looked at the broken _poi _and gritted her teeth, thrusting another hundred yen to the stall keeper. The old man bent down to her eye-level with some difficulty and gave a kind smile.

"You've been working very hard, and been very generous, so why don't I give you two goldfish for free?"

She shook her head adamantly and probed the old man again with the money. He eyed the eight other broken paper scoopers on his counter and sighed, accepting the fee. The adults surrounding her grinned and cooed at her determination, having never seen someone take goldfish scooping so seriously.

She accepted the new _poi_ graciously with the nod of her head and held the frame slightly above the water. She gulped. Her scoop dipped slowly into the water, before snatching the targeted goldfish out of the water. She held the scoop up to the white light of the stall lamp and gasped. Her eyes widened, she gave a bright smile. The fish in the paper scooper wiggled and then...

It plopped back into the pool.

Her lower lip trembled.

"You might want to put it in the bowl before the _poi_ breaks, little one." A slim person in a white leaf printed dark blue _yukata_ squatted next to her on the right. She leaned a little forward, trying to see more of the person's face under all that purple hair.

"Here." They handed another hundred yen note to the stall keeper, receiving a new _poi_ in exchange. He turned to face her and peek-a-boo, a single eye crinkled at her. "You're really cute, and I hate it when cute little kids cry, so leave it to _onii-chan_, k?"

"O... kay." She shifted a little to make room for the pretty man.

"Okay! Let's do this!" He gave a loud battle cry, and attacked.

He tried again.

And again.

And... again.

"O-once more... please?" He bowed his head in shame and the old man behind the counter suppressed a snigger, hiding his wide smile behind the prepared new _poi_.

"_Onee-san_... you're actually terrible at goldfish-scooping aren't you?" The young man slapped a hand over his heart and grimaced, adjusting his position to ease his aching knees.

"It's _onii-chan_!" He replied indignantly. The little girl tugged at his short _yukata_ sleeve and shook her head, silently conveying that he's already done enough for her. The sadness in her rose red eyes though, the desire to win that goldfish out of skill, not pity, only solidified his resolve.

"Seriously little one, how about three goldfish for free?"

"One more!" He jumped up and slid the hundred yet to the old man. "C'mon sir! Let me make a little lady very happy tonight."

The little girl shook her head and stood by the old man, waiting for the final game to start. The young man winked at her and squatted over the goldfish pool, waiting for his chance to strike. She closed her eyes with her hands, unable to watch him suffer the humiliation any further.

"Little lady."

Her eyes peaked out in between her fingers.

"I've got something for you." His arm moved into her field of view and held up not one, not two, but _three_ goldfishes for her in a little plastic bag. "C'mon, cheer up! It's a disservice to your cute face to sulk and hide like that!"

She gasped, bringing the fish a little closer to inspect them. The words rang a soft familiarity in her.

"Congrats, son," said the kind old man as he collected all the broken paper scoopers.

He grinned at the stall keeper and made a cute pose with a peace sign. "Heheh, I can do anything I set my mind to!"

The little girl pulled at his sash and he looked down, exuding almost unimaginable amounts of pure joy through that smile and single eye alone.

"Are you happy now, little one?"

A faint hint of a blush on her face, she nodded. The orange glow of the summer festival lanterns, the shining stars in the ink blank night gave the atmosphere a cosy, relaxed atmosphere, completely different from the tense, competitive mood from before. She smiled and tugged again.

"Do you want to watch the fireworks with me, mum and dad?" the quiet voice spoke out. He watched the goldfishes hanging from her hand, swirling in the tiny space. He smiled and took the hand she held out, swinging it gently.

"Sure."

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**AN: **Garryyouadorablelittleloliconshit. When you're feeling down, onii-chan will save the day! T'was not stated, because I couldn't find a place for it, but this is set about a year after the Guertena Gallery incident :3 The italicised Japanese words are translated below for your convenience.

Poi - special paper scooper used in goldfish scooping games.

Yukata - Traditional clothing made out of light material, usually worn during the summer or during festivals.

Onii-chan - Big brother, affectionate use.

Onee-san - Big sister, used for respect.

I swear I'm trying but these little one-shots keep getting bigger. Share your thoughts and take care! x


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